Helen raised one brow. “I did write to you.”
“Yes, but you are always so mincing with your words, so careful not to alarm me, that I had no real idea how bad the situation had become.”
“Servants up in arms, shopkeepers at the door, butler gone without notice...thatwas mincing words?”
Lewis tweaked her cheek. “Well, I am here now. Do say you forgive me. I cannot abide having both of my siblings vexed with me.”
Helen smiled adoringly at their handsome brother. “I could never stay vexed with you, Lewis.”
“That’s my girl. Now, that’s what I like to hear.”
Nathaniel cleared his throat and crossed the room. “Hello, Lewis. Glad you could come.”
“You made sure of that, didn’t you?”
Nathaniel saw the purple bruise on his brother’s jaw and grimaced. “Sorry.”
“That’s all right. I made good use of it, I can tell you. The ladies were full of sympathy and comfort, never doubt it.”
“I don’t.”
“And look at you!” Lewis gestured toward Nathaniel’s sling and the bandage on his temple. “Told you I got my licks in, Helen.”
Nathaniel and Helen exchanged a look. Deciding not to worry her with more discussions of thieves—pirates or bankers—he asked Lewis, “Would you mind joining me in the library? I would like you to meet our new steward and take a look at the books together.”
Helen frowned. “But Lewis has just arrived.”
“I am afraid several items simply will not wait.”
Helen looked ready to protest further, but Lewis patted her hand, then hauled his tall lanky form to his feet. “Oh, very well, I’m coming. Don’t knot your neckcloth.”
The whole household assembled in the hall in the
morning, before breakfast, for family worship.
—A Memoir of the Reverend Alexander Waugh,1830
Chapter 9
There was a great deal of buzzing and giggling that night as Margaret made her way along the basement passage to the servants’ hall for supper. When she entered, she saw Fiona, Betty, and the kitchen maid Jenny standing clustered about Hester, speaking in smiles and whispers.
Curious, Margaret approached the small clutch of women. Fiona’s green eyes sliced her way but immediately returned to Hester as though she had not seen her. Betty sent her a quick smile without pause in conversation or invitation to join them. Margaret stood there, a little apart, feeling like a third shoe.
Thomas entered the servants’ hall with a young man she had never seen before. He was of middling height—not quite as tall as Thomas, but his shoulders were broader. At least they appeared so, under the well-cut black coat, grey pinstriped waistcoat, and crisp cravat. He held himself with athletic ease, smiling at Thomas as the two men talked. His hair was deep red, thick and slightly wavy, brushed just so across his forehead. His complexion was fair, his nose straight, his eyes a bright blue. Margaret realized she was staring. He returned her gaze, and Margaret looked away, embarrassed. She was sure Fiona would be scowling at her. But all the other maids were staring at the handsome young man as well.
Betty stepped to her side and whispered, “That’s Connor. I’ve known him since a lad. Isn’t he a handsome one?”
“Indeed. Who is he?”
“Mr. Lewis’s valet,” Betty said with evident pride. “They arrived from London this afternoon.”
Margaret’s heart raced.Lewis Upchurch is here!Under the same roof. Perhaps she would see him soon. Might she find a way to speak to him in private?
The valet crossed the room to greet them. “Hello, ladies.”
A chorus of grins and good-evenings rose in reply.
Connor kissed Betty’s cheek, then his sparkling eyes lingered on the stillroom maid. “And Hester, my girl, how are you?”
